The Betrothal
by ATimeladyOfLetters
Summary: Cas tries to propose. You and I both know you're interested. Read on and find out how wrong YOU were.
1. Chapter 1: How It Started

The Betrothal

Cas tries to propose to Dean. Read on and find out how wrong YOU were.

Chapter 1

How It Started

It started when they were in your usual rundown weird smelling motel room. Sam was out to get their dinner, Dean was propped up against the bed flipping channels, with Cas beside him. They flipped past the kind of channels Dean didn't approve of. The ones with the chick-flicks that played all day.

In the fast buzz of channels, Cas noticed that in one of them, a man was down on one knee and a woman stood in front of him, looking elated but crying at the same time.

"Dean, that woman. Why was she smiling and crying at the same time?" Cas asked.

"She was probably happy, Cas." Dean said dismissively, NOT wanting to go there.

"Yes, but why was she crying?" Cas persisted.

Dean sighed and said, "She was so happy, she couldn't hold it in."

"And the man kneeling made her happy?" Cas asked, still befuddled.

"Yeah."

Cas brushed off the pie crumbs, smoothed out his trenchcoat, which he insisted on wearing all the time, and elaborately knelt down before Dean, looking up at him expectantly.

Green eyes met blue, but it was in no way romantic, because Dean said gruffly, "Cas. What're you doing?"

"You're supposed to cry and laugh now, Dean." Cas said, tilting his head towards Dean, in a voice that couldn't possibly get lower, as if confiding in Dean.

Between bursts of laughter, Dean managed to choke out something incoherent but as soon as he was done, he explained to now beaming Cas (who felt like he'd just accomplished something), "Cas, she was happy 'cos they just got engaged. The dude proposed." Dean said, refraining from making a joke about how the guy's life was ruined, 'cos he'd have to explain THAT.

"But you don't have to, Cas. You make me happy anyway." he continued, swooping down for a kiss to show Cas just how much.

When they were done, and Dean (finally) settled on an action channel, Cas piped up.

"Dean? I knelt, you laughed and we kissed? Are we betrothed now? Like that couple on TV?"

And then Dean laughed some more.


	2. Chapter 2: An Elegant Attempt

Chapter 2

An Elegant Attempt

The next time Cas tried it, he was more prepared. It'd been three years and though he didn't see how being engaged would change things, (they'd already been on dates and done, you know, it) but he'd heard somewhere that 'if you like it, you should put a ring on it'. And he did like Dean. Dean's freckles, Dean's eyes, Dean's hands, his bravery and selflessness and how Dean said he couldn't have an emotional conversation but that's all he did with Cas nowadays.

After all the failures that marked Cas' recent life, Dean did and said everything he could to make Cas feel good. For a long time, Cas felt he was useless to the Winchesters without his powers, though he wouldn't insult them by thinking they'd abandon him. But as long as no one assured him of that, it was hard to think otherwise.

It wasn't until he got himself knocked on a hunt that he realised he meant much more to them, to Dean than he'd imagined. He smiled at the memory. He felt then, and still did now, that one look from Dean, one kiss, was more than anything he'd ever seen the pizza-man do.

So after three years of convincing Dean that he was worth it, and getting convinced that he himself was, Cas decided that he should indeed put a ring on what he likes.

After days of researching on the net and the TV, days of brainstorming and dodging suspicious glares and even more suspicious questions, days of freaking out, he'd had enough.

That night, one of their more silent ones, he decided that it was to be that night he'd ask Dean.

Traditionally, the man drops the engagement ring into a glass of wine and gives it to the woman. But Cas knew that Dean would prefer beer. Accordingly, he jammed the ring down the mouth of a beer can, taking one for himself, he sat down beside Dean on the couch, trying his best to be casual.

Frustratingly enough, Dean drank slowly that night. So Cas had polished off two beers by the time Dean was almost finished with his first. His senses hadn't even started to dull when he heard Dean say that there was something in his can, and he watched in horror as Dean proceeded to trash the said can. After Dean went up to their room, presumably to clean his rifles, Cas just stared at the offensive piece of tin, retrieving the ring, crawled upstairs and into bed.

The only saving grace of that night was that it definitely wasn't a quiet one, and Cas blamed Dean.


	3. Chapter 3: Silent Reflections

DISCLAIMER: Supernatural and it's characters do not belong to me. They belong to full time genius Mr. Eric Kripke. Though I could have struck a deal with my mother, so she'd pay me for every review I get, I did not, thereby striking out any possibility of earning anything. This story leaves me where I started, broke and dreamy.

A/N: Thank you guys with the clever names of 'Guest' for reviewing, I went around with my laptop, showing my mom and dad, and being very noisy in general. For those of you that want to kill me, I want to kill me too. I had Finals, so I couldn't update. In fact, I asked my Dad to hide my laptop.

Chapter 3

Silent Reflections

He wakes up to Dean sweating. Dean's shirt, stained with blood from older fights, is soaked through. He was probably having a nightmare, of Lucifer taking Sam, Azazel taking John, Meg taking Cas, of Ruby, of Bobby, Cas couldn't pick.

These days, it was easier to guess reasons for Dean's good dreams, becase there were so few left to choose from.

He shakes himself out of his midnight reverie, and then shakes Dean awake. Even in their room, even in the dark, even in the dark, Cas sees the moon in Dean's green eyes. But Dean's eyes overshadow the moon, they overshadow everything.

"Dean. Wake up. Get a grip, come on." Cas whispers, wiping the thin film of sweat from Dean's face. From long experience, Cas'd learned that there were certain things he could do to make Dean feel safe, if not forever, for maybe just a few seconds. To make him feel wanted, sheild him form nightmares that shouldn't threaten him anymore, but still do.

Dean squirms for a second, fighting against Cas' hands wound around his waist, resisting.

"Shh. Shh. Hey. Look at me, it's fine, your fine. Sam's fine." Cas whispers, trying to get through to Dean. At that moment, Dean turns around to face Cas, and the blue of Cas's eyes washes over Dean, like a cool, soothing ocean wave. They were worried, shining with concern. So different, yet so similar to the ones in Dean's nightmare. The ones that were seconds away from having the light leeched out of them. The ones that were locked onto Dean's eyes, still shining with faith, even if Dean failed to protect him. Failed to save him. Failed to do anything but stand there, watching Cas die.

He hears Cas whispering reassurances, words that were as permanent as their breath in the midnight air. He hears Cas tell him that nothing's wrong, that Sam's safe. But it feels wrong. Dean's unsettled, worried and when he sees Cas' trusting gaze, he can't stand it.

"Yeah, but you weren't Cas. You weren't. You were dying. It was killing you, and I was just standing there, watching you die. You died, because I couldn't stop it." His whispers start growing more and more furitive, more deperate, and start breaking as he hisses them out, trying to hold on.

Then Cas thought he heard Dean say, "You died because of me."

"Hey, I'm alright. I'm okay-" Cas says, but Dean cuts him off.

"You hated me, Cas. You wanted to kill me-"

"Hey. I'm still here and in love with you, okay? I'm okay, Dean."

"Hmm. Yeah." Dean breathes out, burrowing into Cas' arms, letting the warmth wash over him. The unsettling fear is still there, nestled in the bottom of his stomach, but it's icy clench over his heart loosened as Cas' hand in his tightened.

The next morning, Dean, unusually, wakesup first. He wishes he could say that last night's interruption was a distant memory, but it is still far too real. Cas' terror struck eyes, begging Dean to do something other than stand there and watch haunted Dean, with every breath he heard Cas take. Sometime in the night, he'd turned away from Cas and had scudded to the edge of the bed. But Cas was right behind him – ready to jump off any cliff, clenching Dean's hand.

Dean smiles to himself, a tiny smirk, as he closes Cas' mouth. He may have been a badass angel of the Lord, happy to smite any threat, he may know more than forty languages and enough history to create a whole new bunker, he may be awesome in bed, out bed, aesome in general, but he still breathes with his mouth open. It'd pop open in the funniest way, but somehow he never snored.

Almost laughing out, Dean brushes the messy bed hair off Cas' face, making it messier (which is actually intended), smoothing out the wrinkles, burrowing his face in Cas' soft hair, letting it tickle his nose, when Cas' eyes pop open. Even after three years, Cas' eyes blow him away and Dean wonders for the millionth time how this is possible. Him, Cas, love, any of it, all of it. Cas thinks he doesn't know, but Dean does. Dean knows he's saved Cas in more ways than he can count, he knows that in three years, he's loved Cas more than anything else in three millenia, but he just doesn't know how.


	4. Chapter 4: A Stern Talking-to

DISCLAIMER: You're just gonna make me do this again? FINE. Supernatural and it's characters don't belong to me. I'm still broke after this.

A/N: So the first few paragraphs are slightly...angry? I was writing it keeping a pissed off, PMSing Dean in my, wokay?

And warning? Kinda Destiel kiss? Hey, don't want that, click that little red 'X', okay?

Chapter 4: A Sound Talking-to

It was like a freakin' movie. Walking through a park, picnic basket in hand, the sun shining, the lake glistening in a distance. But when had Dean Winchester's life ever been idyllic? They were in the park to hunt a water nymph. Some jackass thought it was the Loch Ness Monster. Which it wasn't. What was the idiot thinking?! The Loch Ness Monster? In Detroit? So as if to prove his stupidity, in case anyone doubted, said jackass went to take pictures. And then got himself killed. By a water nymph. Let the records show, it wasn't the friggin' Loch Ness.

And so it came to be that Dean, his brother and his boyfriend were strolling down a walk like it was a bloody rom-com. Except it wasn't, and Dean had a water nymph to kill. Armed with bamboo sticks, they waited until dark, until the park was empty, went to the lake and wasted the damn thing. It teleported, and seduced and did all kinds of funky stuff, but with Cas, Dean and Sam, it didn't stand a snowball's chance. They went, they killed, it died. Simple as that.

Their spirits were high from a job easily done, and so Sam, the girl that he secretly was, suggested they find a nice tree to sit down under and eat their dinner. Or early breakfast. Dean cribbed and bitched until Cas pointed out that Dean had his bacon and cheeseburger, and a chilled beer, so what more could he want? Failing to see any flaws in this logic, Dean stomped back to the car to get their whatever-it-was meal and turned around, getting a faceful of Cas. But now, it made him jumpy in a different way. Not the Oh-my-God-what's-wrong-with-you way, but the I-think-I-love-you-please-just-kiss-me way. And please-just-kiss-me is exactly what Cas did. Just as Dean forgot about that diner he wanted to try out, about having to hammer out that dent in Baby's hood, and was thinking about nothing other than the feel of Cas' lips on his, somehow always chapped, but always soft, and thinking about how if Cas pushed him harder against the open door, he was gonna fall into the car, but not caring 'cos Cas would fall on him anyway, Sam cleared his throat. Thrice, maybe. Loud.

"You guys need a minute? Or 30?" he asked, torn between wanting to smirk, and needing to puke.

Sam was actually enjoying this thing Dean and Cas had. He'd see Dean humming along to Zeppelin in the car as they drove off to God know where. He'd hear Dean howling out 'Thunderstruck' in the shower. He'd see Dean and Cas, a month after they told him, working in perfect union. Cas rubbing their shirts, desperately trying to get the blood stains off them, while Dean would be cleaning their rifles, sneaking a glance at Cas' behind once in a while. Okay, a lot. Dean pouring the cereal into two bowls, Cas following immediately, with a jug of lukewarm milk in one hand, and the other sliding across Dean's waist, still somewhat shy. Dean checking the protective sigils on the bunker's threshold, Cas salting the windows and doors, shaking his head at Dean's paranoia and smirking to himself. Dean humming along with Eye of the Tiger with his head in Cas' lap, and Cas carding through Dean's hair, reading Vonnegut, quietly humming along. It cracked Sam up to see Dean so content, more than he'd ever been in years.

It somehow made Sam feel happier too. As if their bliss was reaching out and embracing him.

"Already so domestic." Sam said once, smirking. He was three pies and a bottle of motor oil poorer that day.

Of course, Sam had no idea of just how domestic until, two months previously, he saw Cas 'fly' away and coming back after about fifteen minutes with something silver in his hand. Going by their lives, it was probably a weapon of some kind that Cas had thought what useful, so Sam didn't ask. Until he saw Cas trying to jam the something something silver down the opening of a beer can. And that something was ring shaped, all round and glinting in the lamplight. So were Cas' eyes when Sam asked him what it was. Of course, Cas lied. The idiot thought Sam would have something against them getting engaged, like he'd be a big enough douchebag to get offended, or whatever Cas had thought would happen if he told Sam. So Sam cornered him. Used his super fake-FBI-Agent powers and grilled him. To which Cas just used his obviously more powerful stoic angel skills. So it was kind of a stalemate.

Until he came in after a walk and saw Cas plop down on the couch with an air of defeat, and he knew something was wrong. 'Cos usually, Cas would just follow Dean up the stairs like the puppy he insisted he was not, which he didn't do today. He plopped down beside Cas.

"Hey, you okay?"

"I am well, Sam. Thanks." Cas said, looking at him, looking every bit a kicked puppy.

"You're not okay, are you?" Sam said, almost immediately, because, come on, Cas didn't look anywhere near the ballpark of 'well'.

"No." Cas sighed out, shoulders subtly falling more.

"Jeez, Cas. You want me to drag it out of you? Or are gonna just tell me?"

No amount of domestic bliss would prepare Sam for what was coming next. But hey, the Winchesters always barge into things unprepared.

"I tried proposing to Dean." Cas admitted, almost folding himself into the couch.

"And?" Sam asked, surprisingly calm and already deliriously happy.

"And Dean just won't getting proposed to!" Cas groaned, sliding a hand over his face.

Clearly, this meant a lot to Cas. It was Dean they were talking about. No matter what Cas said about rescuing Dean, it was Dean who saved Cas form an enslaved life. Dean who taught Cas freedom. Freedom to laugh, freedom to speak, freedom to think, freedom to love. Sam knew that he shouldn't laugh at the angel dressed in a worn AC/DC shirt, with sweatpants that fell just below his ankles.

Sam burst out with a laugh. He couldn't stop, it was hilarious. Cas looked all sorts of depressed just because he'd chosen the weirdest spot to jam an engagement ring into.

Cas, bless him, wasn't even offended, just confused. Very confused.

Sam explained, "Hey, it's okay. I'm sorry. But what happened was a very comical accident, Cas. If Dean knew, he'd say yes before you even finish asking, okay? He would."

"You seem so sure, Sam. But what if he doesn't? What if he's not ready? What if I'm not, I don't know, enough? What if I'm forcing it onto him?" Cas asked, all in a breath, eyes darting around, as if he'd find solutions in the old worn carpet on the floor.

"Hey, woah! Slow down. That's a lot of what ifs, Cas. Dean loves you. He has for three years, and actually, well before that too. I'm pretty sure he got boners sometimes if you were even in the same room. He needs you, okay? More than he, you or I know. "If either of you start doubting what you have, or chicken out and decide your not worth it, there won't be any pieces left for me to pick up.

"If Dean never made that deal, never had to meet you, he'd still be thinking he's a worthless piece of shit. It would have been same old saving people, hunting things. You don't make his life harder, Cas, you make it better. So when you do propose right, he'll jump to it. Because he's Dean and there are very few bright things in his life, and you're one of them. He loves you for it. Hell, he needs you for it."

Cas just sat there speechless, not from wonder and amazement at Sam's excellent oratory skills, but wonder at his own stupidity. It was stupid to think Dean didn't need him. It was foolish to think Dean would leave him, because it was pointless to live and impossible to see the next day with the same willpower without Dean beside him, arm slung over his shoulder. So Cas wouldn't think of that. Even if it did happen, it would happen sometime in a future he's not even sure they'd have. Right now, he had Dean to go to.


	5. Chapter 5: Cas' Choice

DISCLAIMER: I had a dream that Supernatural and all of it's characters belong to me. Does that make them mine? No? One day, just you mark my words! And still broke.

A/N: So there was a major paragraphing and spacing issue with Chapter 4. I am so sorry it came out like that. I've fixed it, so if you felt like tearing your hair out while reading it or gave up on that chapter, please do go back and read it. It should be okay now. And as always, reviews are pancakes and pie. I am super grateful Flutterby Cupcake for pointing the error out. Thanks! You're awesome! :D

Also, I don't have a beta reader, and I still have to figure out how that works, so if any of you want to be one or has any useful information, tell me in the comments, okay? Thank you!

Chapter 5: Cas' Choice

Sam was 'in on it' as Dean would put it. Which is why Cas looked suspiciously at Sam when he suggested that they have their dinner in the park. Moonlight, picnic, beer, it was the perfect spot for a proposal. Going by how Sam conveniently kept disappearing, he knew it too.

They sat down on a blanket, and Dean started tearing into his burger, because, well, how would you cope with going fifteen hours on an empty tank, huh? His head was in Cas' lap, who was chewing thoughtfully munching on a blueberry muffin when Sam muttered a quick apology, saying that he'd forgotten something in the car, and that he was going to go get it. Cas let him go without a word, because Sam's interruption wasn't forgotten.

But honestly, it was getting ridiculous. For the last half hour, Sam had gotten up eight times because he'd 'forgotten something'. Even Dean had caught on to it. It was five in the morning, so they were going to have to leave soon. Which meant Cas would have to pop the question sooner. But he couldn't. His stomach felt worse than empty, it felt like it was getting sucked out somehow. His head, now on Dean's lap, was dizzy and fingers and toes had become frigid.

Maybe Dean caught on to that, because while Cas tried to get five goddamn words out, Dean pulled his hand up towards him, uncurling Cas' frozen fingers, he kissed his palm and asked, "Hey Cas. You okay?"

Now or never. Cas never thought about how excruciating it was to be in a now or never situation. He managed to choke out, "Dean, I want to ask you something." Something small in Cas' voice, the way it came out like he ran a marathon made Dean look down at Cas.

"What is it?" he whispered, unsure of what he'd hear next.

Cas tried. Cas really really did try. But those five words just wouldn't stop hitting every muscle in his throat and pop out of his mouth. He was scared, to put it mildly. Terrified was more like it. Not terrified of Dean, but terrified for Dean. He loved Dean so much. Dean saved him endlessly, tirelessly. Because that's who Dean was. So if Cas loved him too much, too selfishly, and proposed, Dan would know just how much heartache he'd cause if he said no. So Dean being Dean, he'd say yes. Even if he didn't want to. And then he'd be stuck with Cas for the rest of his life. Cas wouldn't wish that on Dean. He couldn't. He loved Dean enough to propose, but he also loved him enough to doubt the proposal, Cas realised, but it just confused him more.

Everything was a monotonous black and white before Dean. But after Dean, everything was a beautiful gray. Cas saw things exactly as they usually are. Gray. Everything was mostly evil, with a little bit of good thrown in. Suicide became sacrifice. Family became everything. Dean, with all his shortcomings, his insecurities, his concern, his bravery, his heart, his love became a part of Cas, as fixed and irrevocable as his wings were.

But when do you cross the line between loving someone and loving them too much? How do you know? Cas, in all his centuries, with all his languages, he didn't, he couldn't know. Green flooded his senses. A beautiful, trusting, caring green Dean's green.

Then, he decided. He was sure he wouldn't regret it if he proposed to Dean but Dean might. Well, Dean was right here, right now, silently waiting for an answer. So it didn't matter. Dean would be beautiful, ring or no ring and that beauty was all his. Cas knew that much. So he just kissed him, whispering, "No, it can wait." Hands in Dean's hair, kissing him to hang on, to hold on and to tell him he loved him, that was all Cas needed.

The ring burned a hole in his pocket, it's pristine silver nestled in the beige cloth. But Dean's fingers on his cheeks, familiarly callused, beautifully comforting, were the only burning he felt.


	6. Chapter 6: An Unfortunate Man

DISCLAIMER: There are only so many times I can say this, without drilling a hole in my head. I don't own Supernatural. The only thing I get from this is a dose of crazy from all the reviews you guys submit. Which is a lot better than money. Or maybe that's just a case of sour grapes.

A/N: Nothing. Just have fun :)

You didn't actually believe I'd have nothing to say, did you? Today, it's just warnings for homophobia and associated bad words. And of course, a Destiel kiss.

Chapter 6: An Unfortunate Man

It had been around seven days since they hunted that water nymph in Detroit. One week later found them in Florida for a plain ol' salt and burn. The sunny weather, the happy palms and cheery waves were getting to Dean. The long-legged blondes were getting to Cas, who became quite tired of marking his territory when they flirted with Dean. Dean's irritability and Cas' grouchiness were getting to Sam.

Everybody was just pissed of in general. Stewing in their own bad moods they plopped down in a cubicle in some random diner. Well, Dean plopped down. Sam and Cas stayed outside discussing something. Dean's mood soured even more. Three minutes later (Dean was totally not counting, okay?), they walked in trying to look totally normal. Trying and failing.

"Hey, so something you want to share with the class?" Dean growled out.

"No." said Sam all to quickly.

Dean raised his eyebrows as he saw Cas' cheeks turn a faint red. Now, Dean loved it when Cas blushed. Dean tried to do a million different things to make Cas colour a little, and Cas did. Every single time. But right now, Dean didn't do anything to put that blush on Cas, which made him even more grouchy. What was worse was that Cas and Sam were in a much better mood. Cas was even humming one of those songs with like, only three words of Enochian that Dean wanted to understand desperately, but couldn't. That put him off even more. He didn't say anything, just to avoid a pointless argument he was sure would come if he did say something.

The waitress came around and unfortunately tried to flirt with Dean if her sugar-sweet smile and honey dripping voice were anything to go by. Like every other over 18, below 60 woman in the city they were in. Cas may have had rusty people's skills, but he knew flirting when he saw it. Mostly 'cos he'd had enough practice.

Dean refused to even talk to Clair, the waitress, so Sam awkwardly cleared his throat, awkwardly smiled, and awkwardly placed an order. Clearly, the waitress had as much brains in her as she had cloth on her, so she said, "You guys, want anything else, lemme know." and with a wink she was off, only after depositing a soda and two beers on the table. She probably meant Dean by "you guys" and she kinda stressed on the "anything else".

Dean took a sip, pushed the bottle away, and got up, saying something about having to take a leak. Mostly 'cos Cas and Sam were having a freakin' giggle fest and were keeping something from Dean, and it pissed him off. He walked off to find the bathroom, found a back door instead. He figured fresh air was better for him than the stench of a men's room, so he took the back door, feeling his sour mood lessen as a gust of sea air hit him. Taking deep calming breaths, he figured he'd get it out of Cas soon enough, if he tried hard enough. Smirking as he planned his move, he made for the back door again when Cas slammed right into him. even now, Cas would look at him up close, and he'd just blink a little. Even after three years. Dean didn't think he'd ever get tired of it.

"Hey." dean said winding his arm around Cas, wishing that damn trenchcoat would disappear atleast in effing Florida!

"Hello, Dean. I was just wondering where you were- never mind. Hello, Dean." Cas barely whispered.

"Hey, Cas." Dean said, somewhat redundantly and swooped down to kiss him. No matter how matter how many times this happened, it'd always feel a bit like the first time. The little breath Cas would let out of his nose as Dean's lips made their way to his own, and the deeper breath he'd take just after they found his, Dean's insane wish to moisten Cas' chapped lips, the way Cas would straighten himself out before falling into Dean, caution thrown to the winds. The way he'd twine his arms around Dean's neck, wanting him for himself, protecting him from everybody else, Cas tipping his toes just enough to fit his nose right under Dean's. All these little details, little adjustments, they hit Dean every single time they kissed.

All grumpiness forgotten, Dean decided to launch into his plan when he heard somebody clear their throat. Dean sighed into Cas' mouth, broke apart and turned around to see a balding middle aged man staring at Dean's arms around Cas' waist, looking as if his lunch might make a reappearance. Probably homophobic.

Cas' face looked like a deer caught in the headlights, scared and unsure, which felt wrong to Dean. So Dean unclasped one hand from around Cas and pulled him against himself, growling defiantly at the creep.

"Anything I can do for you, mister?"

"Yeah. You can take the shit you're doing with that freak there to a place where people like me can't see."

Dean would have just let him go. But right that second, Sam walked out, wondering where Dean and Cas had got to, hoping he wouldn't need any brain bleach this time. Turned out, he did need brain bleach, for a different reason. He saw Dean pressing Cas to himself eyes glinting in rage as some guy in the alley spat out, "Yeah. You can take the shit you're doing with that freak there to a place where people like me can't see."

Rage filled Sam. He'd spent so long trying to convince Dean that what he had with Cas was real. So long explaining to Cas what it meant when his vessels heart beat faster if Dean was in the room. Who was the jerk to judge? What did he know?

"Hey, you read the Bible?" Sam asked the guy, with barely concealed anger.

"Of course. Which is how I know what these faggots are doing is wrong."

"Oh good. Then you must have read this somewhere. 'Judge not, that ye be judged', you dick." Sam growled before he could stop himself, but glad he got that out.

The idiot probably had a drink or three too much, because he took a swing at Sam. At Sam. I mean, come on.

Cas broke away from Dean, yanked the guy back, turning him around in the process, while using his right arm to punch the guy's face. A neat right hook. They guy used his right arm to jab at Cas' face when he realised his nose was bleeding. Cas blocked him raising his left one, grabbed his fist, and twisted it in the exact way a human shoulder shouldn't be twisted and that's how the guy ended up with a bloody nose and a dislocated shoulder.

Furious now, he said, "I'm going to press charges against you lot! I'm going to call the police!"

Luckily, Dean had a fake FBI badge which he shoved in the guy's face, smirking as it almost hit his bloody nose and said. "We are the police, you nutjob."

"I could arrest you for assaulting an officer of the law under the influence of alcohol. But I'm not going to. You know why?" Dean growled out before continuing, "'Cos freaks like you belong in a loony bin, not a correctional facility. Wouldn't want you to drop your whackadoo where someone could step in it, now would we?" Dean asked, smirking, daring the guy to dig his grave further.

Collecting what dignity he had left, the man spat out, "God will punish you. You will burn in Hell!"

Snorting, Cas said, "Even if God cared, which he doesn't, he'd tell you to take your opinion to someplace people would actually want to listen. Or you know, as my boyfriend puts it, 'shove it up you your ass'. See Dean here, is God's favourite. As for the Hell thing, where do you think I met him?" and then, Cas gave him his best screw-off face, kissed Dean, politely said goodbye to the man and walked off. Sam and Dean strode along beside him, Dean's had over his shoulder, leaving behind them an unfortunate man to drive himself to the nearest hospital.


	7. Chapter 7: A Hasty Flight

DISCLAIMER: Yeah, it's still not mine. My only consolation is that you never know what the future holds. Which is no consolation at all.

A/N: Language. Lots of language. Mostly f-bombs. Dean speaking.

Chapter 7: A Hasty Flight

Half a month after they gave that dipshit something to think about, they found themselves in Fort Collins, Colorado. Fort Collins was in for a patch of bad weather. They were there to investigate demonic omens which of course included rain. It had been raining for every minute for all of the two days they'd been there. Cas didn't mind. He liked the rain, whether it was pouring or just drizzling. It didn't hurt that Dean would insist that Cas take his leather jacket every time he stepped out. And he got to burrow closer to Dean when they were in the motel room.

Until their little black eyed problem drew them out. They were in a warehouse of some kind, investigating (breaking and entering) when Cas realised the ring wasn't in his pocket anymore. It made him jumpy and nervous and that wouldn't stop until the ring was back in his pocket. He knew there were no demons here, knew that he'd be gone less than a few seconds, before Dean could notice he was gone, and that they'd feel uncomfortable if he told them there wasn't anything to find there, because they would want to make sure. So he just transported himself back to the motel room. He cast a cursory gaze over all the surfaces of the room, and upon being unable to locate it, he started to wonder what he'd tell Sam and was getting worried when a glint from beside a chair by the window caught his eye.

Heart pounding in his ears, drowning out the silence of the motel room, he lunged at it, successfully retrieving a very old, newly engraved ring. A queer cold washed over him chilling his heated skin and he felt lightheaded as he transported himself back to the warehouse, but not before leaving the trenchcoat and the ring behind in the room, where they'd be safe.

As he landed in the warehouse, he heard Dean shouting, "What the fuck do you mean you don't know?!"

"Dean, calm down. he'll be back and he'll be fine." Sam said, trying to reason with him.

"What if he isn't fine?! What if he doesn't come back?!"

Those words hit Cas hard. His face drained of blood. His feet were rooted to the ground. It had been a fucking waste. Three years of loving Dean. Three years of standing by him, three years of this, and Dean still didn't think he was worth it. He still wasn't convinced that Cas loved him enough. Cas had had enough. Anything was better than Dean doubting himself, after so much they'd been through. He already had a ring, he already had the heart but now, he had the need too.

He needed to propose to Dean. Needed to tell him he loved him. Needed to seal the deal, even if it was with just a ring. He needed Dean to know. So he told him.

"Dean, I'm right here. I'm fine. I was just-"

"What the hell were you thinking, you son of a bitch?!" Dean said shaking Cas.

"Dean-"

"NO! You know what? I don't want to hear it! You're going to leave me anyway sometime, might as well be right fucking now!" Dean bellowed.

Unable to believe what cas was hearing, Cas just stood there, looking at Dean rant, eyes wide.

"Yeah, Cas. I don't know what in hell I was thinking. Three minutes with an angel is far too much hope. Three years is far too much happiness. Sometimes it just has to break, right? How about now? Were you planning to make me fall even more in love with you before you dusted your wings off and left?"

"Dean, stop-"

"NO, YOU STOP! Just stop talking, Cas. You left for days, before. You left for a minute now, you'll leave forever soon You know why? Because of me. My own family doesn't stick around."

"Dean, what-" Sam who'd been quiet till now, just letting Dean get it out of his system, tried to cut in.

"Shut up, Sam! God knows you've left me enough. But I need you. You need to stick with me because you're family. Cas can leave. He doesn't owe me squat, much less three years of his life."

"STOP!" Cas bellowed.

But Dean wouldn't let him talk.

"Stop what, Cas? Stop shouting? Stop being terrified that my angel boyfriend might dump my worthless ass?" Dean knew it was going too far, but he couldn't shut up.

Cas had heard enough. Dean didn't want this, Cas realised. It was too much love. Too much pain. Because that's what love is, right? A happy pain?

This thing, broken and reduced to harsh words, was something Cas never wanted to see. And now, he'd caused it. Dean said he could leave. And he did. He left Sam and Dean there, in that warehouse. With a beat of his wings, he left behind three years of memories, three years of family, three years of Dean. He heard what Dean said. He'd seen just how terribly, how profoundly he'd broken Dean, and he hated himself for it. Loathed himself for breaking a cracked man. Despised himself for failing to make his life better, as Sam said all those weeks ago, and for failing to mend him.

If he had stuck around, he'd have heard Dean, fighting back tears, whisper, "Stop loving you, Cas?"

But Castiel didn't stick around. He flew away from the warehouse, away from safety and family and home. Away from joy and love, as he flew away from Dean.


	8. Chapter 8: A Burning Pain

DISCLAIMER: Nope, still don't own it. Or make any money for it.

A/N: Just more language guys..fixed the typos this time.

Chapter 8: A Burning Pain

Fort Collins was as rainy as ever, but Dean didn't think he could bear the sun. He'd just been venting. He didn't expect that Cas would actually leave. "Oh, will you look at that? More shit in my life that is fully my fault." was Dean's immediate though after Cas left. There was a second of disbelief, followed by relief because Cas was going to come back, obviously. And then, a crushing defeat that took Dean's breath away. It would have taken his sanity too, if Sam hadn't said, "Dean! What the fuck was that?!"

"That was a replay of my every other life event, Sam. How did you miss it?" Dean numbly joked. Truth was, he hoped joking would help him suppress the feeling of emptiness. Help him ignore the fact that he wasn't pained or grieving. He was just empty. The wall had come up.

He was ready to kill the fucking demon that brought them to this damn place. He was ready to leave the place where he last saw Cas. He was ready to feel some pain.

"What happened to the pain?" It pounded into his head as he fought a demon, refusing to let it take the higher ground, and as he punched another demon, noticing the way it's facial sturcture rearranged with every blow.

"What happened to the pain?" burned into his skull as Sam uncomfortably stared at him for the last week and a half.

"What happened to the pain?" he dully thought as he tried to absorb as much lore as he could for a case in Indiana. Now a dull resonance, a familiar echo at the back of his head, he thought it in his every waking moment.

Sam tried. He tried to tell Dean that every demon on Earth didn't need to get exorcised. He tried to tell him that he wouldn't implode if he talked about it. But after being on the receiving end of a few punches, Sam decided that it didn't mater anymore, because Dean clearly didn't want to talk about it like the mature 36 year old he was.

So he did whatever he could. He took over the researching duties, made sure the fridge always had some pie, and beer, but not too much beer. While Sam agreed that alcohol was medicine, Dean would be well on his way to becoming a bitter drunk if Sam didn't keep an eye on him. Sam hid the trenchcoat in his bag of bags, where he knew Dean would never venture. He was there in the background, every time Dean didn't have to swear in irritation or pain.

But he was scared. Even when John died, even when Bobby died, every time Sam tried to talk about it, Dean would say he didn't want to or he'd throw punches, but that was the worst case scenario.

Now? Now, at best it was a few punches. At worst, he'd see Dean's whole frame crumple on itself and he'd walk away. Sam would find him, minutes later, all cheerful and douchey. So of course it had scared him. Dean's ways of dealing with grief had never been normal. But this? This was scary.

That Dean, Sam knew how to deal with. This one, he didn't and that frightened him.

He was so sure he'd be able to explain to Dean that both he and Cas had only heard what they wanted to hear, and that it was a pointless quarrel, but THAT would be a pointless conversation. Dangerous, even. Because this Dean, Sam was positive, was dangerous.

So Sam did the most sensible thing a brother would do. He left Dean alone.

* * *

Cas, on the other hand, let his pain crush him. He would have gotten out of Jimmy Novak's body if he could, but there wasn't enough of Jimmy left for Cas to leave. His wings, once so full of grace and light now became a burden off Cas' shoulders, but not nearly as heavy as the one in his vessel's heart. Things became so intense, they ceased to exist. Or atleast, they appeared to.

For the first week, Cas contemplated smiting himself. He saw Dean everywhere, in everything he did, so what about just not doing things? Stop living? After a week of grieving, he suddenly remembered Dean's face all those months ago, when he told him that if he ever went back to Heaven, he'd kill himself. Dean's face was emotionless then, but Cas could tell he was scared, like himself. He tried so hard not to show anything on his face that day, which was what happened when Dean felt too much. Like that little moment of inactivity when he kissed Dean. That expression of barely concealed wonder when Cas did something 'BAMF-y' as Dean would put it.

Everyday, he'd try so many times to stab himself, to finish the crap he didn't even start. The sword became a familiar thing, as if his hand tried to repress the need to take Dean's warm hand, by repeatedly accepting a cold strange metal blade. He did try, but he had always failed.

So for a few days, he thought about force expulsion. He'd wander the earth without a vessel to contain him, scatter pieces of himself to the winds, leaving Jimmy's body to rot and waste away. But this body, hair and eyes were all he had left to remember Dean by. His hair was the only thing to remember Dean's fingers by. The scent that clung to his clothes was the only remainder of Dean's scent. This body was all he had left of Dean, a man he swore he'd fix, a man he broke anyway. He didn't even have the trenchcoat anymore, he left it behind. Maybe that was just as well, because maybe, just maybe, Dean would still remember him.

Out of shame or fear or fatigue, Cas just gave it all up, he couldn't bring himself to plunge the icy tip of his blade into himself. So he did the next best thing. He disappeared. For five months, he hid, never returning to heaven, coming out only to heed a desperate plea of those who direly needed him. Otherwise, he let himself wallow in darkness, as he became a recluse in his own mind, a stranger in his own body.

For the first few months, he'd hear snatches of Dean's prayers as they burned through his head, word by word. Prayers that slowly killed him. But after a while, all he heard was silence. Like Dean was keeping himself from praying too loud. Or like Dean was moving on. Or perhaps both.


	9. Chapter 9: A Hesitant Prayer

DISCLAIMER: I'm not doing this much longer. Mark my words. I don't own it okay? Not Supernatural, not it's characters, nothing. My own hair won't listen to me right now!

A/N: More language. Mostly f-bombs. Sorry for the late update, but my browser crashed, and all the thousand fifty words I typed went bye-bye.

Chapter 9: A Hesitant Prayer

Dean walked in to find Sam keeled over and wheezing. His skin was pale, and lips were blue. Dropping the bag of take-a-way, dropping everything, he rushed over to Sam and placed an arm around his back.

"Sam! Hey! Sammy! What the hell?!"

"Witch-" Sam explained.

"Goddamn it, Sam!" Dean shouted, already in a manic search for the hex-bag.

Each second ticked away, taking a part of Sam with it. No time. No time.

He found the hex-bag in the trash can, and on failing to find his lighter, he shot the bag to bits.

Sam was heaving heavily when Dean rushed over and started thumping his back furiously, saying, "Hey, Sam! You okay?"

"Yeah" Sam managed to huff out, eyes squeezing shut has he tried to regain his breath.

A second later, Sam doubled over, grunting in pain, and Dean's relief dissipated to give way to fear. He wouldn't lose Sam.

"Son of a bitch. Second hex-bag."

"Don't look, Dean. Book bag. Reversal." Sam managed to choke out with urgency, as he fell against a table lamp, knocking it over, and then falling on the carpet.

"Which book, Sam?" Dean asked, catching on.

"Blue. Leather bou-" Sam gasped out. It felt like someone had poured cement down his airway, with only a tiny hole for breath to pass. Too tiny. He felt his airway crumple on itself.

Dean took two long strides to Sam's bed, tore his book bag open, searched frantically for the blue book, which was marked at a reversal spell. Thankfully, all the ingredients were simple, so Dean got them together and recited the incantation, hoping he got the words right.

For a few seconds, Sam got worse, hacking coughs shaking his gigantic frame, which was doubled over, clutching at his sides in pain. Dean's brain was going into overdrive again. No-no-no-no. This couldn't be happening. Sam was not leaving him. With half a mind to say the incantation again, Dean got up, when Sam's body curled up on itself spasmodically, as tight as a bow string, and it released with equal momentum, throwing each limb backwards.

Dean walked over, slapping Sam on each cheek, desperate that Sam open his eyes. Sam did, and when he did, he gave Dean a weak thumbs up and a weaker smile, he said, "Thanks, man. Gotta sleep. Tired." and with that he was out like a light.

Still jumpy and on edge, Dean let Sam catch some shuteye. Poor kid needed it. Sam didn't know that Dean knew how Sam watched over him like a hawk over the past month or so, making sure he was okay.

_Big brothering me. _Dean thought, allowing himself a tiny, rare smile. He'd forgotten what it felt like to have the corners of his eyes crinkle up as his lips stretched across his gums. They hurt now, though. His lips were cracked and if he let them stretch anymore, they'd bleed. _Even smiling hurts_ Dean suddenly thought when he realized that he didn't remember smiling in the past month at all._ That memory went with Cas._

One thought was all it took. His relief and joy shattered, like the fragile things they were. One thought and he was back to being dangerously quiet.

He got up to put the blue book back in the bag, but the thing just wouldn't fit, so he shook the bag. As he did, some space came free, and a flash of beige caught his eye. Somehow knowing what it was, he touched it gingerly, to confirm his thoughts.

Cloth.

Sucking in a sharp breath, he yanked it out. The trenchcoat snagged on a few books, but was snatched free. The bag fell to the ground, books spilling out as it hit the carpet with a resounding thump.

Dean held the trenchcoat at arm's length, not letting it come nearer. He remembered the first time he saw it, it's folds being accentuated by the lightbulbs that went off one by one that night in the barn. And then another memory. The first time it's sleeve wiped his blood, being the only cloth surface at hand. The first time he took it off, throwing it behind him in reckless abandon, where it lay unseen all night, bathed in moonlight. Memory after memory assaulted him, until Dean was reeling from the sheer number of them. How Cas never took it off. How Dean always made sure it was clean. One after another, they came relentlessly, flashing before his eyes, and before he fully lived one memory, another would take it's place. They whizzed by, until he came up to the last time he saw it. So much like the first time. A dim warehouse. Being worn by a distant, alien Cas. His last memory of it. It was too much.

For weeks now, he would carefully toe around a meticulously built barricade, shielding him from feeling too much of anything, including guilt. Guilt could destroy him, and there were some destructions worse than dying. Worse because he'd hate himself and would want to put a gun to his head in his every waking moment. But he couldn't do that to Sam. Sam still needed him, didn't he? He shuddered to think about what could have happened if he hadn't walked in in time or wasn't there to walk in. He couldn't leave Sam alone. So he decided not to feel.

But how was that possible when the only remnants of the man you loved were an arm's length from you? How could he stick to not feeling anything when Cas' trenchcoat just hung there, tearing him apart? How could the barricade still stand. Dean finally saw the situation in black and white. He was scared that Cas would leave, so he drove him away by himself. Of course, he saw now that those possible extra few days he could have spent with Cas before Cas left were much better than never seeing him again, because he drove him away. He saw it now, when it didn't matter, because his hand was only on the trenchcoat, not Cas' shoulder. Cas wasn't here anymore.

As memories pelted him, he sank to the carpet, his nose burning, waiting for the tears to come. He was glad Sam wasn't awake to see this. He doubled over, sinking his head into the trenchcoat, his chest heaving, wishing the tears would sto before they'd even started. As he wept into the trenchcoat, for just a little while longer, he could pretend Cas was there, holding him, and hanging onto him, letting him weep,, and letting him feel.

The tears didn't come bursting out. They leaked out of the corners of his eyes, silently sliding down the contours of his cheeks, before falling to wet the trenchcoat. They didn't stop, they just kept coming. How long, or how hard, Dean lost track. He didn't even have to try and keep quiet. The tears flowed silently. He wasn't making any noise at all. He figured that if you spent so long suppressing joy and sorrow, not letting it show, your tears came out subdued too. Which was good, because he couldn't wake Sam up. Right now, there was one thing he could do, and if that was to let Sam sleep, he'd do it.

* * *

Around four or five months later, they were on a hunt somewhere in Michigan, your run of the mill poltergeist haunting the mansion by the woods. They took care of it, as they generally did with everything else. Dean's barricade was up again but without Sam knowing, he put the trenchcoat in the car. He needed it to be someplace that was his. But Sam was a genius, he figured it out, but being a genius, he didn't bring it up with Dean.

They were walking out, albeit with a few bruises because apparently, throwing hunters against walls and slamming pianos into them was never an old joke to poltergeists. But they wasted the damn thing, and were walking back to the car to stow away their shotguns, when Sam realised that he had forgotten his duffel bag in the lobby where it remained after the ghost made a sudden appearance. He ran back to the house when Dean wondered why he'd bring a duffel on a hunt anyway.

So Dean was left to put the rifles back in, when he saw the trenchcoat again. He'd have to move it. He'd have to touch it. Trying not to cringe, he lifted it, trying hard not to touch it more than necessary. He stowed the gun back where it belonged when he heard a faint clink. Swooping down, he caught a gleam of silver in the Impala's tail lights but what had fallen to the ground wasn't one of their weapons, he realised when he picked it up and then his heart stopped. No nice way of putting it. It just paused right there as every part of him tried to deny that it came from Cas' trenchcoat.

A ring. A silver engagement ring. On the inside were engraved the words:

_Eternally Yours, Dean_

Everything was deadly silent. He heard the breath whoosh out of him. He heard the Impala squeak as he stumbled backward, plopping down on the trunk. He heard the scrape of the autumnal leaves as they whirled in circles on the gravel, excited into activity by the dawn breeze. He heard his heart breaking.

He pushed Cas away when he was going to propose. He freaked out and told him to leave at a time when Cas loved him the most, enough to want to be married to him, even if he didn't fully understand human traditions. He banished the man who loved him most, all because he was a coward. He abandoned his guardian angel.

His guilt washed over him in waves and his tongue thickened. Sam was back, walking towards him, when Dean held the ring up for Sam to see.

"Did you know, Sam? That Cas was going to propose?" he choked out, those words seeming more and more unreal the farther they made it from his private thoughts.

"Yeah. I knew." Sam admitted resignedly, but not before his face registered a moment of incomprehension, followed by apprehension.

"Then why didn't you tell me? How the FUCK DIDN'T I KNOW?" he shouted as he heard a bunch of pigeons take flight.

"Why didn't I know, Sam? How could I not know? He loved me, Sam, and I loved him. I did. It says 'Eternally Yours'. What the fuck did I do to make him want to stay forever? I mean, all I do is screw things up. This wasn't any different. Why did he want to stay forever? What did I do to deserve that, Sam? Made him love me and then broke his heart? Gave him hope to shatter it? How could he want to stay forever? How could he love me that much?!"

Sam didn't know what to say, so he just put his arms around Dean, so Dean could hang on for dear life. So he knew he still had something left to love. He hugged him tight.

"You tried praying to him?" Sam asked quietly, breaking Dean out of his reverie, after a few moments.

"No. I didn't want to. I couldn't.

"Maybe you should try now..." Sam said cautiously, not wanting to force Dean into it.

"I can't, Sammy." Dean said, eyes wide, scared, begging Sam not to make him do that. He wanted to, but he didn't know if he could.

"Dean, you have to. Your heart's not the only one that broke, you know. He needs to know." Sam said, wishing Dean would just pray.

"Yeah. I've screwed enough things up."

Sam nodded, unsure, but happy.

"But uh... D'ya mind- you know." Dean mumbled, vaguely pointing in Baby's direction.

"Oh, uh, yeah, sure man." Sam said walking to the car, climbing into the backseat, settling in. His eyes were falling shut, so he just went to sleep, still feeling vaguely unsettled.

* * *

Dean looked for someplace to sit, and saw a fountain a little way off in the lawns by the mansion, in what looked like a garden that had run wild. The sky was starting to lighten, baby pink and purple hues breaking out as Dean made his way to a seat. The words 'Eternally Yours', so simple and full of promise, so much like Cas struck Dean. His heart was racing, fingers twitching because of he remote possibility that he'd see Cas again. Maybe. But what if he didn't? What if Cas was angry? What if Cas hated him? What if Cas was hurt?

After five months of not seeing him, Dean suddenly needed to know Cas was okay. He needed those blue eyes to be okay, so he could be okay too. He had no idea what to say, but Dean prayed.

"Hey, Cas. I feel stupid doing this. I feel stupid for what I did. I overreacted. Big time, I know. So if you're still here, if you're still listening, I'm praying to you, okay? Back in the warehouse that day, I don't know what happened. I thought you were leaving. Again. Maybe forever this time. I mean, if you were staying because me, you didn't have much to stay for right? I know we've talked about this, how you'd never leave again, but that's what you said every single time before you left. So how do I know this time's gonna be any different? I don't. Man, I gotta believe this is real. I don't know if you'll come back this time. I do know that I need you back here, with me. Come on, man, three years with you, and I can't live through five months without you. I still love you, Cas. So much, it hurts that you're not here when I'm saying it. I know I've said that a lot of times, but never knowing that I might never see you again, that you might hate me. I guess that changes things, huh? This could either be the first time in a very long time I've said that I love you, or the last time in maybe forever. But I don't care. Because, bottom line, I do. I do love you. No matter what changes, no matter how many times I swear at you or how many times I screw up, I still love you. I have to, right? How can't I?

"You're beautiful. I need to love you, Cas. Because I need you. Does that make sense?" Dean had a tear running down his cheek, and huffing out a sardonic laugh, he continued.

"It doesn't matter, I guess, 'cos if you're listening, you know what I mean and if you're not...well, I guess it doesn't matter, right?" Dean let out shakily, desperately hoping Cas was listening. His eyes were threatening to brim over. Taking a deep breath, he went on.

"Let me bottom-line it for you, Cas. I love you and I need you more, so will you please come back to me?" he asked, voice quivering. Toying with the ring in his hands, running a shaky finger over the engraving and feeling the promise, he whispered almost to himself, "Please be mine, Cas. Marry me?" his voice broke as he whispered.

"You know, if you were here, if thing's were still the same as before, you were planning to ask me, right? Well, look at me. I'm begging you, man. Just come back. If you do, you don't even have to be with me anymore. Totally dump my ass. But if you do still love me...marry me, please, Cas?"

He didn't want to open his eyes. He knew his tears would fall. He wished he could just get from here to the Impala without actually having to see. But he needed to get there, he needed to do something, so he opened his eyes.

In front of him, a little distance away, a pair of black dress shoes stood out from the gravel, he saw black pants and blood rushed to his face.

He looked up so fast, a caught a muscle, but he didn't care because staring back at him were a pair of beautiful blue eyes. They weren't darkly circled, as he thought, but they lacked something that Cas had before. It was coming back, though. He could see the beginnings of that spark that made those blue eyes his blue eyes.

"Cas?" he said, excited but scared, stretching a hand over to Cas' shoulder, to make sure it was him, eyes roaming Cas' face, taking in the dusting of stubble that looked like golden specks in the rising sun's light.

"Hello, Dean."

"Hey, Cas."

After a long pause he let out, "Did you hear everything I said?"

"Of course." Cas replied, too calm.

"And?" Dean asked, not wanting to hear the answer but strangely rooted to the spot.

"And I believe you must know why I left that day. Right from when I pulled you from Hell, I realised that you didn't think much of yourself. I didn't understand why. I still don't. When I fell in love with you, Dean, I needed you to see yourself through my eyes. So I had hoped then that I could bring you to see that you are a good man. One of the best. But at the warehouse, I realised that no matter what I did, or how long and hard I tried, I had failed. Not only had I failed to make you see, but I made you worse. I caused that version of you in the warehouse, Dean, and for that I apologise. I couldn't fix you, I broke you and I never wanted to do that to you. I left for you, Dean. Not because of you." Cas finished, eyes shining strangely, with an earnest look that Dean didn't know he missed until he saw it again.

"So what now?" Dean asked softly, knowing he should be relieved, but somehow still resenting himself for doing that to Cas.

"So now, I believe you have something of mine." Cas said in a strange voice and Dean's hope fell just a little. The hard edge wasn't something he recognised in Cas' voice.

He looked down at the trenchcoat he was holding, so hard that his knuckles almost turned white.

"Yeah. Here." He said, handing it back to Cas.

Cas took it without comment, still staring at Dean and there was a curious stillness in the atmosphere. But Cas' lips started twitching and as his smile widened, to Dean, it felt like freaking sunshine.

"No, Dean." he said quietly, taking Dean's hands in his own rough fingers, and Dean nearly groaned at the feel of it. Involuntarily, he clutched at Cas' fingers, clawing for life, and to his surprise, Cas held on harder, refusing to let go, in some way, protecting him. Then he pried Dean's fingers open and gently took the ring from where it was nestled in Dean's warm palm, and brought it up for Dean to see. It glinted mischievously in the sun, but they were just standing there, staring at each other as the sun rose at the dawn of a new day.

Unable to help himself, Dean kissed Cas, wanting to remind himself what it felt like, and reminding Cas just how much he meant to him. He was scared of what Cas would or wouldn't do. But clearly, Cas missed him equally. For the first time in five months, they kissed as if their lives depended on it. Maybe it did. That's what it felt like. Loving the feel of Cas' lips on his, Dean pulled him closer, an unspoken promise that he wouldn't let go. Parting for breath, Dean rested his forehead against Cas', enjoying Cas's familiar touch, and when he opened his eyes to look up at Dean, he felt himself sigh quietly as he looked into Cas' eyes and felt his gaze on him in what seemed like lifetimes.

"Cas, marry me?" Dean said, breathing hard.

"I don't believe I've said everything I wanted to." Cas said, almost playfully.

"Okay, let me hear it." Dean said, just content that Cas chose to stay despite everything.

"I love you, Dean. I always have, I always will. Tomorrow and the day after, and the day after that. Year after year. Time after time. Forever, Dean." he said, his eyes shining with faith and hope and an unwavering promise.

"And since the ring IS mine-"

Cas got down on one knee, nervously saying, "I hope this is right." and after settling himself, he turned his gaze to Dean, letting him know how much he loved and trusted him, he asked solemnly,

"Dean Winchester. May I put a ring on it?" his trusting gaze turning confused as Dean asked between laughs,

"What?!"

Now scared, Cas explained, "I like you, love you, so I should put a ring on it, correct?"

Head reared back in laughter, freckles looking like sunbursts themselves, Dean hauled Cas up to his feet, soundly kissed him before his proclaimed, "Yes, Cas, I will marry your feathery ass."

"Thank you, Dean." Cas said, in the most grave of manners, as if the highest title of them all were being conferred upon him. Clearly, he was still unfamiliar with proposals, but it didn't matter, because he'd be doing it only once, and now Dean and him were betrothed, promised for each other. With that realization, everything that had gone wrong in the last five months, all the rage, pain and betrayal, all the heartache and grief was chased away.


	10. Chapter 10: An Eternal Vow

DISCLAIMER: So I don't earn Supernatural. I am a mature person, I can come to terms with that. More importantly, this is the last chapter.

A/N: So it's time for acknowledgements. Thanks to my friends who shall be called R and S. Me and S came up with the idea for this story. I know the grammar in that sentence is wrong, but you wouldn't understand 'S and I'. Also, my accounts ma'am for not realising that my two hundred paged notebook has become a hundred pages one by the time this fic was done being written. And my mom for offering to dictate. I didn't let her, of course. And you guys. Everyone of you who's reading these words, having fun reading the story, any of you who've frowned or laughed or just generally fangirled, it was my honour and privilege. Thank you.

Chapter 10: An Eternal Vow

Dean Winchester was having a headache. Cas would have said it was because of drinking too much, and Dean would have to agree, but Cas didn't need to know that. As he brought his hand up to pinch his nose, trying to numb the dull throb, the lamplight bounced off the ring and Dean still smiled like an idiot when he saw it. It was a simple band of silver, with Enochian symbols of protection and the engraved lettering: Eternally Yours, Dean. But to him, it was much more. It was forgiveness and a promise. He asked Cas where he got it, when Cas enigmatically replied, "Over the hills and far away, Dean."

Dean decided that that was enough Zeppelin for Cas now. Cas liked Journey and Foreigner better now, anyway. But hey, as long as it wasn't Bieber or Rihanna. Dean still hadn't gotten over the Beyonce reference. Cas liked all kinds of music now. Mumford and Sons, The Beatles, Cyndi Lauper, and something called Hoobastank. Dean blamed Sam for that. Of course, Dean drew a line at rap.

This was rare. Sitting in a motel room in Chicago, just thinking about music and Cas. Mostly Cas. He smiled for no reason, and boy, it felt good.

He felt Cas walk up behind him and sighed in contentment as he began to massage Dean's temples. He threw his head back to see Cas smile, all wide and toothy, saying, "I can't let you fall sick, Dean. We're getting married in a week."

"It's a headache, Cas. Besides, I'd make it to that alter even if both my legs were cut off." Dean joked.

Sam walked in, looked at the and snorted, "Huh. Look at you guys sharing PG-rated love. I thought I might have to find a new motel for myself. That or all the brain bleach in the world."

That morning, the morning that they got engaged, Cas and Dean woke Sam up to tell him, knowing he'd want to know immediately. If Sam wasn't sitting so straight to keep from falling asleep, he wouldn't have banged his head on the roof of the Impala when he gave a loud hoot.

"Aw Cas, you could have done so much better!" Sam joked, all dimples and teeth, thrilled to bits that these to jerks got their act together, finally.

"I wouldn't have married you, Sam." Cas said, only half getting the joke.

"Hey! Hey! Hands off, Sasquatch! Get your own super hot nerdy angel boyfriend!" Dean said in faux-anger and a bouncy feeling of excitement, like he'd just swallowed gallons of Dr. Pepper.

"Maybe later, jerk. Right now, I'll be busy teasing the life out of you." Sam said, looking at them both happily, like a match making grandmother, which Dean believed he secretly was.

"Bitch." Dean retorted, feeling awesome.

"I still don't understand why you insist on flinging derogatory terms at each other."

"What? Like when you called your brother assbutt?" Dean said, howling in laughter.

Today, like every other day, they got teased mercilessly by Sam. Hell, Sam and Cas sat down to watch a gazillion wedding movies in one night, 'in preparation', as Sam called it. Although Dean had to admit, 'Bride Wars' was fun. And Cas learned the right way to propose. But Dean wouldn't want it any other way, he reflected. It was eleven in the night, he observed, as he felt some of the throbbing ebb away. Cas' fingers were magic. They systematically, rhythmically chased all the sharp pain away. As if he wasn't content enough, he caught a glimpse of Cas' ring in the dim light. It was also a simple band of silver, with three tiny sapphires set in, just big enough to wink at him in the dim light. Conventionally, Dean knew it was supposed to be a diamond, but he could only do so much with the money that came out of hustling pool and running credit card scams. Dean had always thought diamonds were kinda cold and colourless. So he looked for a sapphire closest to the colour of Cas' eyes. Of course, he had to compromise.

But when Dean told Cas that, about the whole diamond versus sapphire thing, Cas just gave Dean a look and said, "Nothing about this betrothal was conventional, Dean."

"Yeah, but Cas, you won't have anything to say you're taken, if a girl ever hits on you or something." Dean said then.

"Well, you'll just have to come up with something else to show them that I'm spoken for." Cas said mischievously, kissing Dean.  
Dean smiled further, thinking of the words he got engraved inside Cas' ring.

_Always yours, angel_

He felt silly about that but the look on Cas' face was worth it. The kiss that followed wiped away any other doubt. He knew that marriage was big. Like, epic big. He'd have to start hunting with a brother and a husband. Other hunters had hear vague tales about the angel who rescued Dean from Hell. Dean could already see their eyebrows shoot up as he'd introduce the awkward trenchcoated guy beside him as his husband. But between them, him and Cas that is, nothing would change. They'd still fight like an old married couple, except now, they'd be married. Grinning, he realised that he couldn't wait.

* * *

Movies being movies never told the right stories, no matter how many you watch. Your wedding day didn't have to be sunny. It could be chilly and snowy like Dean and Cas' was.

Dean woke up to a frigid wind blowing through the window, frowning as he remembered how Sam insisted the previous morning that he and Cas stay separately until the wedding day. So, the afternoon before, Charlie came down from where ever her last convention was, and being the maid of honour, she whisked Cas away. Of course, Sam didn't dare venture a guess at who the bride was. But he kinda thought it was Cas, because he had a maid of honour and Dean had a best man. Him. Sam wasn't surprised at all, because they didn't actually know that many (alive) people. Garth was presiding over the ceremony, so Sam kinda expected it to go slightly wonky. Apparently, Garth had gotten himself ordained over the internet for a case in New Jersey. Sam didn't even want to know.

So the only guests they had were Kevin Tran, Mrs. Tran, Garth's wife, Sheriff Mills and Missouri, who were shocked to say the least when they were filled in. Shocked and thrilled. When Dean asked Missouri if she'd come, she whacked him on the upside of his head and told him that no matter how big he got, his brain would always stay the size of a pea, that of course she'd come. She then proceeded to drill Cas with questions about angels, God and all things religious, which he answered to the best of his ability. She decided that she liked him enough, and was a lot nicer to him than she was with Dean. Cas of course, thought it was odd when she ruffled his hair.

Neither Dean or Cas wanted it to be big. Dean didn't even need to do it in a chapel. But Cas being an angel, they decided that if there was someone up there watching over them, whoever it was, they'd get married in their presence.

Called back to earth by another chilly gust of wind, Dean jumped, well, more like leaped out of bed to shut the window when he heard a knock on the door. Sam's voice, carefully level, called out, "Hey Dean, you awake? Open up, jerk!"

Still smiling, Dean walked to the door.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm coming. But your ugly face is not something I want to see right now. Where's Cas?" Dean asked as he let Sam in, noticing that Sam came with gifts. He could smell breakfast. Was that maple syrup?

"With Charlie, Dean, like I explained to you a few thousand times last night."

"Don't mean I like it." Dean shrugged as he watched Sam make his way towards the tiny closet that rooms in Sunshine motel were equipped with. He yanked the closet door open, and made a brief search.

"Dean. Where is it?"

"Where's what?" Dean sighed, wondering how Sam managed to reproach him so early in the morning. The day hadn't even started yet.

"The jacket. The brown one."

Garth, his wife, Charlie, Mrs. Tran, Sheriff Mills and Missouri had met a grand total of once, to pitch in and buy blazers for Dean and Cas. At best, it was an awkward get together, but Mrs Tran, Jody and Missouri maintained that Dean and Cas were not to have a wedding dressed in the same old stuff they wore every day, which was either stained, torn or plaid. Charlie seconded that, and Garth and Bess realised how useless conventional wedding gifts would be to a hunter and his angel, so a blazer it was. Their wedding gift, they called it.

"Oh! It's here." he said, carefully sliding it off the chair it was clinging to.

"All pressed and clean." he said beaming like a five year old, but his face went back to normal when Sam gave him a highly amused look.

"Alright then. Have a shower, get dressed!" Sam screeched, shoving Dean towards the washroom.

"Jeez. Okay, mom!" Dean said, grabbing the razor, towel and clothes from Sam's gigantic hands, being careful with the blazer.

He made a quick job of cleaning himself up, wanting to get to the church and marry Cas already. Wondering if Cas was getting the same treatment from Charlie, he headed out of the bathroom.

Sam was eating a bagel, when Dean grouched, "Hey, where's my breakfast?"

"Get it yourself, jerk!"

"I'm getting married, Sam. Be nice."

"I am nice, which is why it's in the bag or it'd still be waiting to be ordered at the diner five blocks away. I got you some pancakes."

"Oh, ha ha, Sam." Dean responded flatly, kinda glad that he didn't have to get his own breakfast.

Precisely two minutes later, a stack of six pancakes disappeared and Dean obsessively brushed the front of his blazer, waiting for Sam to finish his breakfast.

Sam was only halfway done, and he was going slow. Dean was convinced he was doing it on purpose.

"Sam, come on!" Dean almost whined, wanting to get to the chapel already. The priest owed Garth a favour for taking care of some demons in the vicinity, so eureka, they got a small chapel, nowhere important. Just a small old chapel in a quieter part of town.

While they were planning out the details of the wedding, Dean wondered what they'd do about the legal records. He was a deceased fugitive, and Cas didn't even exist. Cas told him offhandedly, "Oh, Dean. I took care of that. I wiped your's and Sam's records from any state you had trouble with the law in. You and Sam are no longer criminals, nor are you dead. And I added my own last name as Adams."

"And you were going to mention this to me when? Isn't that against any angel rules? Thou shalt not meddle with the law or something?" Dean asked, shocked that it was that simple, so shocked that he didn't even comment on 'Castiel Adams'.

"I was going to mention it to you yesterday, but we got distracted. Your fault. I don't believe such a rule exists, and if it does, it's time I broke that too." Cas said, smiling.

Right now, Dean couldn't drive himself to the chapel because Charlie and Sam refused to tell them where it was.

"I'm coming!" Sam growled, in reply to Dean's question, as he put on a tan coloured suit he already had over a white shirt.

They made their way to the car, where Sam got onto the driver's side for a change, seeing as how only he knew where the chapel was.

"Dean! You didn't even comb your hair!" Sam said in mild shock as they got in.

"I never do. I'm not a girl, Sam!"

Sam huffed out in annoyance, getting ready for a long fifteen minute drive from the motel to the chapel.

As he started to drive, Dean asked silently, "You ever wish they were here, Sam? Ever wonder what they'd think?"

"Who?" Sam asked, surprised by the softness in Dean's voice.

"Mom, Dad, Bobby. Everyone we loved. You ever wish they could be here, watch me get hitched? To a dude?"

"Of course I do, Dean. Mom would be thrilled. She'd spoil Cas rotten. Dad, I guess he'd be okay with it. He'd just want you to be happy, and continue hunting, of course. I'm pretty sure Bobby knew this was coming. If they were here Dean, they'd be happy. Trust me. Happy and proud. It's kind of a good thing, I guess. They're probably up there, and everyone we've loved, who's still alive, is at the wedding. So everyone you love is going to watch you get married, Dean."

"Oh come on! You're saying they're watching me from Heaven? That's just weird." Dean retorted, eager to end the emotional moment, but he found slight comfort in the idea.

"Dean. We've seen weird. And we believe all of that crap. So when you're getting married, just believe in the good kind of weird." Sam said with an air of finality, and for once Dean agreed with Sam.

_Angels are watching over you._ It played in his head over and over, and he felt that somehow, Mom knew. She knew, and that made him happy. Their guest list was complete and everyone was in attendance. There was a comfortable silence in the car as Sam drove, and Dean thought about stuff.

"Hey, you okay?" Sam asked, when Dean got too quiet.

"No, Sam. We're not doing this. Here on out, all of my chick-flick moments are reserved for Cas, okay?" Dean said, half-joking.

"But yeah, I'm cool."

"What? No...cold feet?" Sam asked apprehensively.

"No, actually. I'm excited as hell, but no cold feet. I dunno, man. I wouldn't get cold feet because of Cas."

"What, you trust him with all you heart?" Sam smirked, back in annoy-Dean mode.

"I'll break your nose with all my fist, Sam, if you don't shut your pie hole and drive faster." Dean said, refraining from sticking his tongue out.

"Whatever, but I'm happy for you, man. This is amazing. You, Cas, marriage. It's just something you need. Cas is good for you. Perfect, even."

"I know, Sammy." Dean said quietly, as they pulled into the chapel's driveway.

* * *

Cas was in a room, a motel room beside Charlie's. He knew the age old custom of the soon-to-be wedded couple not seeing each other the day before the wedding, that it'd bring bad luck.

Bad luck? Really? Dean went through Hell and back. Their lives were defined by bad luck, followed by worse luck. So how on earth could one night of seeing Dean make their luck worse? That ship already sailed, as Dean would put it.

Cas was lost in thought when Charlie cane knocking on his door, saying, "Hey, you decent?" through the key-hole.

"I am wearing clothes, Charlie."

"Awesome." Charlie said, pushed the door open, walked in and dropped a dark gray suit, with a long sleeved light powder blue shirt, along with a pair of black trousers.

"What are you waiting for, then? Get dressed!" she said an octave too high, pushing him towards the bathroom.

"Charlie. Charlie. I've already bathed."

"Oh. Okay. How long have you been awake?"

"I woke at dawn, Charlie. Old habits." Cas explained.

"Holy cow! Yeah, okay, fine, then get dressed." she said, flabbergasted, but quickly switching back to mother hen mode.

"Charlie, explain to me why I'm scared." Cas said, sitting down on a chair suddenly.

"Um...you've got cold feet?" she offered, distracted while she was laying the suit out on the bed, making sure it was alright.

"No, my feet are fine, Charlie. My stomach is not though." he explained, clearly uncomprehending.

Charlie giggled a bit, turned to Cas and said, "Cas. Cold feet is when you get nervous before your own wedding, and you don't feel like going because of that."

Cas was convinced that this explanation was wrong, because he said to Charlie, "Charlie, I do want to attend my own wedding. I just find my self unsure if Dean will want to." Cas said in a small voice, and he realised that that was ridiculous when he said it out loud. Didn't stop him from thinking it, though.

"Cas..." Charlie trailed off, sighing.

"Who rescued Dean from Hell? One word answer."

"Me."

"Who did you tell your first secret to?"

"Dean."

"Who taught you free will?"

"Dean."

"Whose help did Dean seek when Sam was misled?"

"Mine."

"Among all your angel frat brothers, who does Dean trust the most?"

"Me."

"Who was the first person Dean willingly shared his pie with?"

"Me."

"Who trusted you until the very last possible second when you worked with Crowley?"

"Dean."

"Who helped break Naomi's control over you, even when you were going to kill him?"

"Dean did."

"What did he say?"

"That he needed me."

"Who's told you he loves you, and shown it to you even more times?"

"Dean does."

"YES! I hope you get the point of this little Q and A session. Dean loves, trust and needs you, Cas. And I'm not just saying that, he did. He never was the smarter of the brothers, but he'd never let you go."

Each word struck Cas, and he saw how lucky he was, to be able to call that surreal man his. So a smile lit his face when he said, "Well then, I wouldn't want to keep him waiting."

"YAY!" Charlie cheered, excited because it was the first time she'd successfully talked someone out of cold feet.

Laughing hysterically now, she told Cas she needed to get dressed and asked him to do the same.

When she walked out and shut the door behind her, Cas took a minute to sit down on the weird smelling bed and contain the fizzy feeling of joy. He wanted to cry, but laugh endlessly at the same time. He had given up on trying to understand human emotions a long time ago. He just felt them, and accepted them, finding it easier. After so many years, Dean would be his. He had loved him long before Dean knew, long before he could understand the feeling himself, but he knew it was an impossible thing. A human being became everything to Cas. Every feeling of joy, peace, trust, faith and love, it felt like Dean held the key to all of them. A human being with one of the most beautiful, warm souls in the history of creation. He'd get to call that his. Unable to believe his luck, he realised, their lives weren't all bad. As long as Dean was around, it would never be.

He laughed to himself in an empty motel room, needing no witness to the feeling of uplifting joy he felt.

He decided to hurry up and get dressed, which he did, because every part of him wanted to teleport to the chapel already.

Just as he got off the bed to check on Charlie, he heard an impatient knock on the door.

He yanked the door open and saw Charlie wearing a beautiful golden dress. Sentimental and emotional, Cas remembered thinking that the dress looked like it had trapped the winter sun's rays and let it out little by little for everyone to see. It was beautiful.

Her shocking red hair tumbled down her shoulders, falling over a lace wrap she wore to ward off the chill.

"You look beautiful, Charlie." Cas said, smiling.

She was unused to seeing him in anything but a trenchcoat, but in the blazer, he looked fabulous. It was just the right cut, and the gray of his suit, and the blue of his shirt just bounced off him, and made his eyes look bluer. If that was possible.

But noticing his hair, she frowned.

"Cas. What did you do with your hair?"

"Only combed it." he said, taken by surprise.

"You can't! Dean loves your hair! Not that he'd ever tell anyone that, I've just seen him play with it a lot." she let out in one breath, brushing her fingers through it, messing it up a little.

"Now, you look ravishing. If I was batting for your side, Dean would have some competition." she said approvingly.

"Thank you, Charlene." Cas said, accepting the compliment, though not fully understanding it.

"Alright, Cas. Here's something for breakfast." she said, handing him a donut.

"I've had mine." he informed her. He didn't actually need it. Plus, he'd be having enough sugar in the course of the day, if the five gigantic boxes of pie in Charlie's car were anything to go by.

"Okay, then. All set? Let's do this wedding thing, bitches!" she cheered, yanking Cas by the arm to her yellow car.

"I hardly think-"

"Oh shush, Cas!"

* * *

Dean was waiting in the dressing, wondering how much longer it'd take for Cas to get here, and passing a critical eye over his attire- dark brown blazer, black shirt, and the cleanest, nicest pair of blue jeans he had. At the time, he had refused to wear anything but jeans, but now he wondered. _Ah, who cares?_ He thought, brushing it off.

Every once in a while, Dean would hum Metallica tunelessly, tapping his foot to the rhythm, Sam observed.

"Dude. He'll be here. Stop freaking out."

"Nah, I'm fine. Not freaking out" Dean said distractedly, staring at the door.

"Alright, it's time, so you might as well take your not freaked out self to the altar. Everybody's there." Sam said, marveling at the weird things that came out of his mouth. He never thought he'd see the day he'd tell his brother to walk to the alter. Demon worship altar, a witch's altar, sure, not his wedding alter! But Sam was ecstatic. Cas was great, and he couldn't remember why they'd thought he was a douche when they met him. It would certainly change things, the wedding, but change could be good.

Dean nodded, walking out the door towards the altar. He was glad to see that the decorations were kept to a minimum. He didn't want them, Cas didn't understand them. It was just a few flowers here and there, just enough to make the stone cobbled church look festive.

But even their fresh subtle fragrance made Dean feel sick. He knew what he needed. He needed the smell of sea breeze and cinnamon. He needed Cas to be here.

He took his place at the altar, hands locked behind his back, butterflies in his stomach, wishing Cas would get here already.

Sam was the first to hear a distant, "Cas! Come on!". As soon as he did, he gave Dean a thumbs up and a huge smile, feeling like a load had been lifted off his shoulders. He lit up when he noticed how young Dean looked and he thought for the nth time how awesome this was. By themselves, they were pretty badass, but together, Dean and Cas were awesome.

As if on cue, their crowd of five people stood and turned to see Cas walk down the long, carpeted aisle with a shimmery Charlie leading him towards the altar. Sam looked over to Dean and noted how Dean's shoulders squared and he stood taller as he turned around to look at Cas for the first time in a whole day.

Cas looked perfect. Insanely beautiful, mind blowingly hot and Dean was glad that the ladies insisted on blazers. After struggle, friendship, betrayal, trust, love, lust and so much faith, Cas was finally his. Dean could think of a million nicknames for Cas - nerd angel, hot, badass, weird. But the one word that resonated in Dean's head, the one word that blotted out every other emotion, tore apart any doubt, was 'mine'.

In all his centuries, Cas had seen so much. Beauty and peace, betrayal and war. Destruction, revenge, power, these were his world. He was an angel, created to watch over and protect the humans, a warrior of God. Many ages later, these titles began to mean nothing, because the end of days was imminent. Everyone was at risk, humans, angels and demons, all on the same footing. It was unfortunate, he thought, that after so much, all his father's creation were to be brought to their knees by two brothers who couldn't see eye to eye. The apocalypse had begun, started by the very beings who had sworn to protect the humans. And God had long since left. Cas had lost everything that defined him. Faith, order, method, everything. Until Dean. And Dean was right there, the centre of Cas' universe now, the pivotal reason for Cas' existence, quite literally in some situations.

Sam saw Cas beam and Dean grin back. Cas came to a stop beside Dean, Charlie taking her place behind him. Cas took Dean's hand in his, and Sam saw how white their knuckles were, they were still fighting to hold on to each other. He saw them subtly angle towards each other, and it was the nicest thing Sam had seen in a while.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the presence of God to watch Dean and Cas get hitched."

Sam sighed and said out loud, "To join together these men in hole matrimony."

"Yeah, sorry. Meant that." Garth said sheepishly. Sam didn't expect for the wedding to go off without a hitch, but he thought at least Garth would get it right. He WAS ordained after all. He looked around, but it didn't seem like anyone particularly cared about the blunder.

Dean looked back at Sam, and whispered, "What the hell, dude?"

"What? I did some research." Sam whispered back defensively.

"Of course you did." Dean said, rolling his eyes, before turning back to Cas.

Garth repeated what Sam said, before continuing, "All three of these guys have saved so many lives, mine included. But I think Dean and Cas have saved each other more times than anyone else has or knows. Dean as a hunter, Castiel, as an angel, it's something no one's ever heard of, for whatever reason. But you guys are extraordinary men with extraordinary lives. So I guess it makes sense you're in love. You may love each other, you may need each other to be your strength and faith, but from where I'm standing, you deserve each other." Garth finished up, beaming like Father Christmas.

Dean took in a deep breath, and Cas clutched his hand tighter, before smiling serenely at Dean.

"You may now say your vows, Dean." Garth instructed, clearly following no particular order.

Dean cleared his throat and began.

"I haven't actually prepared anything, because if I did, I'd mess it up anyway. So this is either going to be short or really long." he said, addressing the five people in the pews. He then turned back to Cas and said,

"You know, Cas, in the beginning, when I first met you and months after, I was so sure that your palm print on my shoulder was the only thing I'd have left of you. And I didn't mind. Because everyone I meet dies, I know that. I guess a little part of me hoped you wouldn't stay, so you wouldn't get hurt. I mean, I was just a hunter, with very few things going for me. Part of me didn't want to get too happy, and I guess the apocalypse made sure of that anyway.

"But when you came back to me in the green room, and everyday after, you've shown me that being happy or content isn't something I should be scared of. I'm still a hunter with very few things going for me, but you make me what I am right now, Cas. Happy. I don't know how long this'll last, but I'm ready to make the most of it. Because of you. For you. I love you, Cas, and I'll be there with you, watching the bees for as long as you'll have me."

A silence fell over the chapel, and everyone was sniveling. Dean was too busy being happy to be mortified, as promised.

"Cas, your vows?" Sam prompted, as neither Cas nor Garth made any move to say anything. Looking away form Dean, Cas apologised to Sam, and looked back at Dean, before he began.

"Dean, I've loved you for far longer than you know, and I've wanted to protect you for even longer. When I raised you from Hell, your soul wasn't the only thing that was saved. My grace in you, a little part of me, it reached out and mended me. You saved me, Dean. More times, and in more ways than you realise. You may be just a hunter, but you're far better than anyone else I've ever seen or met. The best of men. You make everybody around you want to be too.

"Before I met you, I was a soldier. No emotions and certainly no freedom. But you made me feel, and that scared me. I began to wonder why I was there, what the purpose of it all was. It was tiring, doubting my every decision, doubting my orders. Then you showed me a better way of feeling. You showed me how to love you. Then, I understood that my purpose, my task which I had taken upon myself, knowingly or unknowingly, was to have and to hold you, to love, honour and cherish you, to take care of you in sickness and in health. Till death do us part. Maybe after too, because I will do anything I can to bring you back. You're why I'm here, Dean. And I love you."

Everyone was now sniffing, each whisper bouncing off the walls of stone. No one cared that there was no order in the ceremony.

Dean's eyes were shining, Sam noticed, as he tried not to let a single tear out. He let out as much of what he was feeling with a larger than life grin, which Cas matched.

"Dean Winchester, do you take Castiel to be your wedded husband?" Garth said, deciding that everything else that was to be said, would be said sometime in the future, if it hadn't already been said in the past.

"Yeah, I do." Dean whispered, just loud enough for him, Cas and Garth to hear.

"Castiel, do you take Dean to be your wedded husband?"

"Yes, I do." Cas said, and his voice rang out with confidence.

"Cool. By the powers given to me by, well, the online community, I now pronounce you married hunter and angel."

Dean yanked Cas towards himself, with an expression that shouted out 'finally!', when Garth said, somewhat pointlessly, "You can kiss now." just as Sam corrected him, "You may now kiss."

Dean brought his hands forward to twine them around Cas' waist and kiss him while Cas raised his to rest them on the back of Dean's neck. They met each other halfway, and let their lips touch and Dean couldn't believe that he just got married. To Cas. He held Cas tighter, leaving no gap, kissing him throughly, leaving no stone unturned in loving him. His heart broke a little and mended a little when Cas whispered, only for him to hear, "You're my faith, Dean."

Dean Winchester's life had been peppered with miracles, few and far between, but the only one he recognised that day, the only one he was aware of was Cas Winchester. He didn't need another miracle.


End file.
